by Lee, Jessica
Mustering a grunt for a response, Landry followed it with “Fine,” then snagged the cup. “You can live.” He spun, leaving Kaleb on the stoop to manage finding his way inside and closing the front door.
“Thank you.” Kaleb chuckled. “I appreciate the stay of execution.”
“I need to get dressed,” Landry stated and kept on his path toward his bedroom. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.
“Hang on,” Kaleb called out. “Before I forget. I have something for you here.”
Palming the door jam, Landry came to a halt and glanced over his shoulder. Kaleb reached in the pocket of his black uniform vest and pulled out a small mailer. Landry frowned. He wasn’t expecting anything.
“I stopped by the front gate on my way over, and one of the guards mentioned this had just been delivered for you.” Kaleb sauntered over to him. “I was heading over here, so I told them I’d drop it off.” He deposited the white package in Landry’s palm. His fingers curled around the reinforced paper, detecting the shape of a small square box beneath the surface.
“Thanks,” Landry mumbled, searching the outer surface for a return address. A local PO Box address had been penned in the upper corner, but no name. What the hell?
“I can tell by the look on your face, you weren’t expecting a Secret Santa gift any time soon.”
“Hmm…no.” Landry turned, aiming back toward his room. “I’ll be right back.”
“Yeah,” Kaleb responded. “All right.”
It wasn’t hard to tell his partner was as curious as Landry about what and who had anonymously sent him the package and was annoyed about being shut out. But something inside his gut telegraphed perhaps he should utilize a little discretion when opening his present.
Landry dropped the mailer on his bed, his cup of coffee on the dresser, and tossed his towel in the general direction of his hamper. On automatic pilot, he yanked on his uniform, his brain churning over the mysterious contents inside the mailer.
Dressed, he sank onto the mattress, taking the envelope in hand. Landry pulled the tab, opened the sleeve, and shook the contents out onto the bed. The contents spilled onto the bedding followed by a folded note.
Going for the jewelry-sized box first, Landry plucked it up from the surface with his fingers and gently tugged the black velvet top off. He blinked, staring at the familiar sight of the platinum and black onyx sword pendant and chain he’d lost six months. His gut tightened down on the empty space in his midsection. The last time he’d worn this was the final evening he’d been with Arick Gregorson. Son of a bitch!
He snatched the paper beside him and flipped it open.
It was hard to part with this. The piece reminds me of you and the wild nights we shared—dark, hard, and edgy. But then I thought you might be missing it. Perhaps there’s something else you’re missing too? I haven’t forgotten you, Sir. You know where you can find me.
Instinctively, his grip curled, tightened, the letter crinkling inside his fist. Landry reared his arm back and sent it flying at the wall across the room. Launching from the bed, he spun on his heels, not really sure where the hell he was going. He scrubbed his face with his palms and sighed. Why now? Six months of silence and now that the packs were at each other’s throat, the male sends a cryptic message along with this…
Landry stared down at the open box and the chain inside. Dear God, please tell me my mistake hasn’t added fuel to the fire already burning between the packs.
One thing was for sure, he had to find out if the aggression from the other pack was Arick trying to not only get Evin’s, but Landry’s attention as well. Arick sure as hell hadn’t tried to hide his scent at the kill site, which Landry had thought odd. The lead enforcer of the Gregorson pack personally marking a run against a rival pack… As with Landry, Arick’s role was to train the enforcer team, serve and protect the alpha, and in turn, the pack by ensuring the safety of their leader. But there hadn’t been a word from the shifter since their final encounter when Landry had confronted him about his identity. And he used the word “confrontation” lightly.
Landry had come close to choking the life out of the male once he’d realized who he’d been fucking. Prior to their hook-up, the last time he’d seen the younger Gregorson male, the guy had to have been ten years old. That’d been at least fifteen years ago. But after their third encounter, Arick’s curiosity about the KinKaid pack’s stability and its alpha became less than casual. And Landry’s internal bullshit meter had been tripped. So after the shifter had left their bed to get cleaned up, Landry had searched the guy’s pockets for identification.
Landry had been played for a fool. Something that didn’t often happen. And he would be making damn sure it wasn’t repeated. As they say fool me once…
Even though detecting Arick’s scent had seemed a little unusual, he hadn’t connected the two events, one possibly having sparked the other. Sure, Arick had been trying to suck insider information out of Landry from his knees, but too many months had passed since then to have been suspicious at the time of the wolf culling. Besides, Landry hadn’t given him a damn thing except a few orgasms and a bruise the size of his hand around Arick’s throat before he’d left.
Yet now…Arick’s timing was setting off every one of the alarms in Landry’s head. He’d somehow known his fuck up with Arick would come back to haunt him. Nothing in his life had ever been easy or gained without pain. That included whenever the demands of his body could no longer be ignored, and he had to find release. There were always consequences or hell to pay for anything Landry ever wanted. And he usually ended up on the paying end of the sacrifice.
Even before he was born, his father—or donor—had done the unforgiveable and abandoned not only his pregnant wife but had deserted his pack as well. Yeah. He was spawned from the cream of the crop. From the moment Landry had been born, he’d had to fight for every shred of respect, for his place among the pack. No one had given him a damn thing. He’d earned his rank and title alone, and this situation…he’d fix on his own too.
Tonight.
Decision made, Landry inhaled deep to cool his head, grabbed his cup of java, and joined Kaleb in the other room.
He found the enforcer in the kitchen rummaging through what was left of a bowl of fruit on the counter. As he entered, Kaleb turned and tossed him a banana. Landry snatched the thing from the air with one hand, balancing his coffee in the other.
“Nice moves.” Kaleb grinned.
You haven’t begun to see the moves I’m capable of, shifter. Landry deflected his gaze away from his partner and tipped his cup up for a long gulp of the dark brew. Well, wasn’t that statement better off trapped inside his brain? The redhead didn’t see Landry like that. Never would. Any illusion he had about something more was just that—a fantasy.
“So…?” A loud crunch followed as Kaleb took a bite from the apple he’d confiscated from the dish.
“So?” Landry rounded the other side of the counter and plopped the banana back in its place. He’d lost his appetite.
“So what was in the mailer?”
Landry jerked, knocking the bowl and wobbling the glass dish on its base. Shit. “It was nothing,” he muttered. “Some stupid marketing thing.” Landry shrugged. “You ready to head out?” He reached for his keys beside the fruit.
“Marketing thing…” Kaleb didn’t move, his face stoic. “Someone sent you an overnight package hoping you’d buy into their product?”
“Stupid, huh?” Landry made for the door, but as he marched past, Kaleb snagged his arm.
“You’re the worst damn liar I’ve ever met.”
Dammit. “You gotta death wish this morning or something?” Landry yanked free. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Why wouldn’t Kaleb just leave the shit alone?
Kaleb lifted his hands, palms up, and stepped back. “You tell me.”
“I don’t have time for games. If you’ve got something on your mind, spit it out, or let’s get to work.” Maybe b
y the time Kaleb spilled his guts, Landry would have figured out what the hell he was going to say.
“Fine.” Kaleb’s mouth thinned, and his gaze narrowed on Landry as if he could see right through to the ugly buried deep, the effect unnerving.
Not that the other male would ever know how much he got to Landry.
“You’re hiding something from me. I called you on it the other night when we were having a few drinks, but you deflected.”
“You were drunk, Dalton.” He crossed his arms. “I’m surprised you even remember what we talked about since I’m the one who had to take you home and put you to bed.” Landry cleared his throat, suddenly finding the freckle on his forearm fascinating. The last thing he wanted were those mental images of Kaleb on his bed that long muscled body of his stretched out with nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs between him and what he knew had to be a thick gorgeous cock. His own shaft stirred at the memory. For Christ’s sake, Landry couldn’t do this now.
Kaleb performed a reshuffle of his boots on the floor, then settled back into a wide stance as if the conversation had taken a sudden hard left, and he was the one now uncomfortable on the trip. Exactly what Landry had intended.
“And I don’t know what the hell you’re on now?” Landry threw in for good measure.
“Fuck you,” Kaleb spat. “I’m not going to let you try and turn this around on me.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“The hell it isn’t.” Kaleb braced his hands at his hips, one palm on the hilt of his .40 caliber. “We’re not just partners, we’re best friends, and if something’s going on—if you’re in trouble—I’ve got your back. You know that, right?”
Hell…the guy knew just how to crawl under his skin, adding another two hundred pounds of guilt to the shitload he already carried. “Yeah.” Landry sighed and nodded. “I know you do. You always have. But everything is cool, okay? Nothing for you to worry about.”
Kaleb gave him a look that could only be defined as dissecting, then dropped his hands from his belt. “If that’s the way you want to handle this…?”
“There’s no ‘this’,” Landry growled. “Let it go, Kaleb.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” Kaleb waved him off and headed for the door. “I’m done. Leaving you alone.”
“Good,” Landry called out to his back. “That’s all I’m asking.”
***
Well, we don’t always get what we ask for, do we, Landry? Kaleb slipped his bike into the darkened parking space across the street from the club where Landry had pulled his vehicle. Kaleb tugged his helmet off, secured it to the seat, and sticking to the shadows, headed in the direction of his partners destination. There was more than one way to find out what his friend was trying to hide.
The lot’s loose gravel crunched under his boot heels, the sound waves hitting his ears with the thunderous impact of a rockslide. He cringed at the noise. Kaleb already felt like a complete dick for spying on his partner, and the whole thing had him on edge. The other enforcer would resent the hell out of knowing Kaleb tailed him. And if he got caught, Kaleb wasn’t sure if Landry would ever forgive him. But he wasn’t about to back out now, not when his instincts said his best friend was in trouble.
Up ahead and above the club’s thick black door, the green neon sign read, The Scene. Kaleb had heard about the place before. It was about an hour and half drive from their territory and mainly catered to those in the gay community with a taste for fetish. The fact that Landry was inside those walls wasn’t part of the mystery. His friend’s sexuality wasn’t a big secret, nor was the fact the male occasionally liked it rough when he fucked. Over the years, Kaleb had overheard enough of the rumors about his partner’s escapades, so he wasn’t surprised when Landry’s trail had led him here.
Inside, the music slammed into Kaleb’s chest, the deep bass vibrating his sternum. Lady GaGa’s voice rang inside his ears, her lyrics preaching something about Money, Honey. After handing over a twenty for a cover charge, Kaleb strolled deeper into the club.
Swinging his head right then left, Kaleb’s gaze was immediately drawn to the cages hanging from diagonal corners of the room. The men behind the bars writhed in time to the beat of the music, wearing nothing but tan muscle and gold thongs, their faces hidden by masks. Damn…
On the small dance floor, the patrons, most with their chests bare, mimicked the show above with their partners. Kaleb swallowed hard, his pulse racing from the erotic heat wave bouncing off his senses.
He scanned the crowd, seeking out the familiar dark head and broad shoulders belonging to his friend. Rumors placed about half the club’s clientele as shifters. Based on the scents hitting his nostrils, they weren’t far off the mark. Out of the corner of his eye, Kaleb spotted a man wearing a studded leather collar, its leash attached to the palm of another shirtless, muscle-bound man behind him. His owner yanked the guy’s chain, spinning him around for a fast, hard kiss. Next, he shoved his pet to his knees right before rubbing the leather-clad bulge in his crotch in his sub’s face. Is that what Landry liked from his males? Did he chain his lovers and force them to their knees?
Kaleb’s cock kicked at the thought, going rock hard. Fuck! He shook his head. Kaleb had to get out of there soon. All the PDA’s were messing with his brain cells.
Finding a discreet spot at the far corner of the bar that allowed him a decent view of the club and its surrounding tables, Kaleb signaled for the bartender. This definitely called for a drink. Maybe more than one depending on how the night went.
The barkeep, wearing not much more than twin nipple rings, stopped in front of him and leaned in.
“Beer. Whatever you have cold and bottled.”
The guy nodded and headed off. Kaleb scanned the room once more, noting more than once a procession of men entering and exiting in pairs down a guarded hallway. The bartender returned and plopped down a Heineken in front of Kaleb.
“Open a tab, sweetie?” Nipple Rings cocked his hip and winked. The fake lashes and heavy black eyeliner exaggerated the almond shape of his eye. From the chin up, the guy was completely androgynous with long dark hair and a full pouty mouth. He really was quite…pretty.
“Yeah.” Kaleb sighed. He hadn’t spotted Landry yet anyway. “Why the hell not?” At least while he waited, the scenery around the place was pretty entertaining to watch.
The bartender started to turn away. “Hey, wait a sec.” He leaned back in and Kaleb eased in a little closer so he didn’t have to shout over the music. “What exactly happens in that area of the club?” Kaleb pointed a thumb over his shoulder, indicating what appeared to be an exclusive corridor.
Nipple Rings flashed him a provocative grin. “Sweetie, that section is for those who want privacy when they want to do more than dance with their partner.”
“I see.” Kaleb nodded.
“I get off in twenty if you really want to…see,” he said with another flap of his butterfly wing lashes.
Umm…no, he really didn’t. “Thanks. Not tonight.” Not with him. The mental image of Landry tugging him down that hallway, though, flashed inside his head, sending his heart thudding against his sternum, blood slamming into Kaleb’s cock. His balls tightened. Holy hell. Why did the very thought of his partner dragging him back there like some badass Dom wanting to rock Kaleb’s world have him on the edge of blowing one right there inside his jeans?
“Your loss, sweetie,” the bartended muttered and moved away.
Shit. He really did need to get laid. Kaleb glanced around the room, catching sight of a St. Andrew’s Cross in the back of the large space. Some guy was strapped to the wood, his bare back glistening with sweat under a row of halogens while his Dom worked him over with what looked like a flogger.
Maybe that’s what Kaleb needed to get rid of all his extra energy: a Dom to whale on his ass with one of those straps? Kaleb grinned to himself. Perhaps then the idea of Landry’s large hands, and whatever else he wanted to place on Kaleb’s rear end, wouldn�
�t seem so fucking appealing.
The DJ switched tracks, turning back the years to the pulse-pounding sound of Nine Inch Nail’s Closer.
How appropriate.
At that moment, Landry’s profile came into sight. He stood outside the private corridor with a man Kaleb had never seen before. The stranger had long dark hair and was wearing a black leather vest and pants. Suddenly, Landry closed the distance between them, spearing his fingers into the hair at the other man’s nape, tugging the stranger’s head back. Was he pissed, or was this a part of a game Landry liked to play?
Risking detection, Kaleb slipped from his spot at the bar. He couldn’t hear a damn thing or even read their lips at his current distance. But before he could get a better look, both men turned and disappeared down the hall. Fuck!
Kaleb reversed his steps, found a seat back at the bar, and motioned at the bartender for another round. Picking at the curling label on his Heineken, Kaleb couldn’t help but hit rewind inside his head on what he’d just witnessed. Landry’s face inches from the other man’s mouth. Were they kissing right about now? Kaleb squirmed on the stool, his gut tightening at the thought. Stop it! Kaleb squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the visual replay to shut down. It wasn’t like he’d never been around when Landry had scored a hook-up in the past, and Christ, it wasn’t like he’d considered for one minute the male was living like a monk. Then what the hell is the problem?
“You okay, sweetie?” The bartender’s voice cut through another loop of the song’s chorus. Kaleb lifted his lids, then grabbed the new icy bottle of beer in front of him.
“I will be in just a few minutes.” Kaleb sneered and downed a gulp of the chilled brew.
Fifteen minutes later and halfway through his third bottle, Kaleb’s brain and limbs were on the cusp of that sweet, numb don’t really give a shit anymore mode when the hard feel of another male’s chest pressed against his back. Kaleb eased his brew down onto the wood.
